Meeting You..

Chapter One: How We Met

It was a cool November morning. There was fog on the horizon of the plowed cornfields outside my house. I got into my car and pulled out onto the road and headed toward school. My best friend, Katie, was at my locker. She smiled at me when she saw me coming down the hallway. Her red curls covered her shoulders and she was wearing a light yellow turtle neck that day.

            We walked to chemistry class together and I sat next to Tom Johnson as usual. He smiled at me and we began discussing the chemistry notes. We had a test today. Mr. Hanson came in and told us to settle down. He leaned against his desk and gave us a bit of a review before he handed out our tests.

            When I got my test my fingers began cramping. I bit my lip because I already didn’t understand the first question. I skipped it and went on. The class time flew by and the bell rang. I still didn’t have that first question finished but I just handed in the test anyways.

            At lunch I sat with Katie, Tom, and my cousin Amy. We just talked about minor things; small talk. During one of our discussions though, there was a loud clang. The cafeteria grew quiet and heads turned toward the sound. There was a freshman girl, her face beat red, and I pitied her. It’s hard to be the newbies.

            After school, I got into my car and went straight to my Aunt Caroline’s café. It’s an old fifties diner. I walked in and smiled at her. She gestured for me to hurry over to her.

            “What?”, I asked. She tugged on my shirt and pulled my ear close to her.

            “There’s a smartass over there on my pool table. All the waitresses are afraid to tell the boy to get off. So will you be a dear and get over there and tell him to get his grubby rear end off of my 1940’s pool table?!”, she says. I nodded and gave her a tight smile. I was always the one who had to tell the rude people off. I sat my book bag on one of the bar stools and walked over to the boy. I could only see the back of his head. He was surrounded by a bunch of high school guys who I assumed were his friends. He was clearly and literally the center of attention.

            I had to step in between two guys I recognized from the varsity football team. I crossed my arms and cleared my throat. I stuck my hip out like I usually did when I meant business. There was a hush throughout the whole diner as the boy turned his head and looked at me over his shoulder. His eyes were sea glass green and he had light freckles that layed perfectly across his cheeks. He had brown hazelnut hair and his shaggy bangs hovered silently over his eyes. His lips were rosy and perfect and I found myself gazing at him. He looked like an angel.

            Neither one of us said a word. We just stared at each other. Finally, I remembered why I was over there.

            “Get your ass off my aunt’s pool table you jerk.”, and once the words were off my lips I felt horrible. Shock was all over the guy’s face. He blushed and climbed off the pool table. None of the guys around him said anything. He stood there on the other side of the pool table just looking at me. His mouth was open ajar. He looked at me with this lost look on his face.

            Then all of a sudden Britney Bucket was there with her notepad and pen, butting in and saying in her nasally voice, “Can I get you boys anything?” and suddenly the world was back to normal. I went back to my aunt and the boys all took seats at booths. But the guy who got on the pool table came and sat at the bar. I pulled on my apron and didn’t see him as I bent down behind the counter to get my notepad and special hello kitty pen. I was startled when he said, “So, you have a name, right?”

            I was so startled that I actually stood up too quickly and banged my head on the counter.

            “Shit!”, I said. I put my hand up to my head. The guy was already out of his seat and on the other side of the counter getting an ice pack from a mini fridge we had that was packed with stuff in case of emergencies you couldn’t even dream of. My Aunt Caroline was a very paranoid person.

            “You’re bleeding.”, he whispered to me as he put the cool ice against my head. I grinned at him sympathetically.

            “Thanks…”, I said.

            “You’re welcome.”, he said as he grabbed some paper towels. I glared at him.

            “I meant thanks for making me hit my head, stupid.” This made him blush. Then he just rolled his eyes. I put my notepad and pen down on the counter and said “I’ll be right back” and then went into the bathroom. When I stepped into the bathroom I shut the door and locked it. The crappy fluorescent light wasn’t much help to identify the damage the counter had done to my forehead, but I was sure there would be a scar there for a while after it had healed.

            I cursed under my breath as I walked back out to the kitchen. I scoped the room but could not find the boy. I decided I should just forget about receiving revenge and grabbed my notepad and pen. I walked over to an old man and woman sitting at a table waiting for a waitress. I smiled at them. I asked them what they would like to drink and when they told me ice tea I was dumbfounded to see seven numbers scribbled on my notepad and then it said call me in messy cursive underneath. I ripped it off quickly and shoved it in my pocket.